Facedown in an Omelet

First week at UT, and there I was, facedown in an omelet.

Well, not in the omelet...I just said that because it's a much more humorous picture. Actually, my face was on the table, exactly eye-level with the ham-and-cheddar omelet, at 3 am in Kerbey Lane as I contemplated life at the beginning of freshman year with a friend I would rarely see again (what UT student hasn't had a moment like this?).

I had recently left a party, was very tired, and THAT WAS THE BEST OMELET I'D EVER TASTED!!11! I ate some pancakes too. The waiter came by and told me to get my head off the table at one point because they'd had too many students pass out in the restaurant recently.

I had just come back from a party with people I barely knew, and was now eating with people I barely knew. Everyone was someone I barely knew, including myself. I mean, a few months ago I could identify myself as a scholarship recipient, cheerleader, leader in the youth group, and Valedictorian, among other things. I'd had an identity and a history. Maybe not one I always liked, but I had one nonetheless.

And here, I was the girl who was being told to not pass out on the table.

I had recently attended Camp Texas, this magical place where everyone seemed to be smart, athletic, good-looking and confident all at once. I'd been completely overwhelmed. Most people already seemed to have a plan - a major, a country in which to study abroad, and even which sorority they would join. My first week at UT confirmed that I was constantly surrounded by smart, driven students. While I loved the new environment in which I found myself, I also let it threaten who I knew myself to be. Jesus couldn't be the same here as he was in my one-stoplight town in West Texas, could he?

I was at a crossroads. I could live for myself in college, or I could live for the God who redeemed me at the age of 13. This was a test. Was he real? Was I serious about this?

All through freshman year, I don't think I was quite sure. I had one foot in the world and one foot in the Kingdom. This was not the first or last time my life would be like this. We all have moments when we have one foot in the world and one foot in the Kingdom, one hand holding God's and the other holding money/power/people. I wanted to have everything. Jesus was not my only Pearl.

Then, I ended my first semester with a 3.4 GPA. Even though I'd been Valedictorian in one of the tiniest schools ever, I still had delusions of the unshakable awesomeness of my brain. That even at UT, I could do everything and still make the grades I wanted to make. That wasn't the case.

Don't get me wrong, a 3.4 is not awful. Having a 3.4 instead of a 4.0 is definitely a "first world" problem (as many girls don't even get to go to school), but at the time, being the product of the first-world system and the middle-class family that I was, I felt like my world was shattering. My identity was gone. I wasn't the best. I wasn't even close. I was one of 50,000 students who had all been at least the top 10% in their high schools, and I was competing against them. Sure, I was in an honors program, but so were many others...some who had already started their own nonprofits that cured AIDS and written a Tony award-winning play about it (maybe slightly exaggerating there).

And then my idolatry smacked me in the face. In high school, I had grown to love Jesus. But I still wanted to love the things of this world. I wanted to be the Christian girl, the beloved girl, the smart girl, the successful girl, and the creative girl. The blow to my pride in the form of a 3.4 GPA was almost more than I could take, as pathetic as that sounds. The kind of girl I wanted to be was not the kind of girl who had a 3.4. She was the girl who had a 4.0, yet somehow managed to still be the lead in a play, a leader in a Christian organization, an intramural sports player, obtain a coveted internship, learn a foreign language, and study abroad...perhaps even obtain a perfect boyfriend while doing so.

When all this did not just magically happen, I needed to reevaluate who I was. Who I wanted to be. In a one-stoplight town, there are seemingly only so many choices, but in a big, diverse city like Austin, you can be whoever you want. The possibilities are endless, and you can always find people to agree with you. You have to throw the sand away and choose your pearl.

If this were your typical "success" story, I would say it was all an uphill trajectory from there. That I chose to be a follower of Christ and stuck with it. That I got my head in the game, as Zac Efron would say in High School Musical 3, and never got out of it. By God's grace, my GPA got much better, it's true; I whittled down the things that were good and focused on things that were best; Father blessed me with brothers and sisters who walked beside me through good and bad.

But the truth is, even now at any moment I know I am just a change, a mood swing and a bad choice away from being facedown in an omelet. There were still awkward moments after that, over omelets or pancakes or other late-night fare. There were entire months when I genuinely believed God didn't want me to be happy or care about me. There were times when I got angry at people who had been nothing but good to me, when I had thoughts that I'd be ashamed to tell even the devil, when I let my joy succumb to worry. When I found out I would officially be going overseas for 2 years, my first reaction after the momentary rejoicing was to cry my eyes out. Fear gripped my heart, I'm ashamed to say, more strongly than the love and faithfulness of my Savior.

And so often, it still does. I constantly struggle to love the people I should love easily. I'm faced with the prospect of yet more dear friends leaving our city, after saying goodbye to so many local friends going off to college. I'm faced with the prospect of nothing being the same when I get back home in a year, the uncertainty of where I will live and who will be there for me. That all-too-familiar demon of loneliness always hovers close at hand, never quite vanquished and always ready to pounce. That fear of being alone for the rest of my life, of never having permanent community, of always bouncing around without clear direction or purpose or guidance. There's that too.

My point in saying all this is: I haven't arrived. You haven't either. I know that every day I'm growing more and more, growing in freedom and love and peace. But we've never arrived until we cross over that river and possess the kingdom prepared for us since the creation of the world. As long as we are here, we are sojourners. There is no destination here, only the journey. Here, we travel, we grow, we struggle, we sin, we love, we forgive, we taste and experience the kingdom we have not yet fully known or possessed, and sometimes we pass out in omelets. And the minute we think we have sufficiently distanced ourselves from that omelet is the minute we slip on a giant one that just happens to be frying on the sidewalk. And we think we've made a big fat gooey mess of our lives.

Thankfully, Jesus has an even bigger spatula.

Wake Up.

"Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Ephesians 5:14

I have been meditating on this verse for a long time. Thankfully, it is not just a command to us; it is also a promise for others:

"Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy!" Isaiah 26:19

Jesus has awakened me, and I am thankful. But I want the other dead to live as well, to wake up and embrace the lives they have been given rather than live in fear. Why do we have so many dead people walking around?

How many people I know who have resigned themselves to occupations they don't like, to hating work and then drinking alcohol to forget work and then drinking coffee in the morning to stay alive for work. Students hate school and yet let it master them, being anxious and jealous, never feeling smart enough or good enough, and putting down fellow students to make themselves feel better. Americans eat well, drink well, and work hard, and yet are starving.

What is wrong with us? Have we no hope? We only have 80-something years to live if we're lucky, and we're spending it like this? And all too often, if we do quit school and go off to "find ourselves" or "truly live," we only end up in poverty, drinking all the time to forget our actual lives. Why are we so dead, and how do we resurrect ourselves?

I thought about how to best sum this up. Of course, Jesus is the one who conquered death, who raises us from the dead, and who will grant us eternal and abundant life. But what is it about Jesus that makes his promises so eternal and steadfast? Faith, Hope, and Love. It's no coincidence that "faith, hope, and love abide (1 Corinthians 13:13)." What does "abide" mean? It can also be translated as "remain" or "will last forever." Haha! I think we have found our definition of LIFE! We need to put ourselves in situations where faith is necessary, hope is possible, and love is a choice. Life must be so uncertain that we have to live by faith. We must be working so much for change that we allow ourselves to hope again. And we must surround ourselves with people we choose to love, not people we are genetically predisposed to love or people who are exactly like us. This is how to come alive.

We'll just take a hypothetical person. She graduated in the top 10% and now studies at UT, where she feels mediocre because she is no longer "the smart girl" in class. She's only average here. So she joins a sorority trying to find belonging and meaning, but instead only feels more insecure as she tries to fit the mold of a beautiful, successful, intelligent, "all-around" kind of girl. She is enslaved to comparing herself to others. Then she graduates to work in a PR firm, where she still fails to find meaning because she spends her day helping a corrupt client gloss over its human rights violations. At the end of the day she goes out for drinks with her girlfriends, laughing unnaturally, telling herself she is living the good life but wishing she could meet just one decent guy at these bars she frequents who won't just abandon her. She's too scared to leave the country or to even talk to people who are different from her (not to mention her friends would think she is weird). And she wonders...is this the American Dream?

Let's take that same girl and instill her with faith, hope, and love. Going to UT is still really hard, and she fights the urge to feel that she's worth nothing compared to the many successful friends she's made. But rather than giving into the temptation of self-hatred, she decides to have faith that she has a purpose here and hope that she will fulfill it. She realizes that she can study her hardest and there will still always be people who seem more intelligent than her...but then, when she looks at Jesus and at what He values instead of what the world values, she begins to look at her hands rather than her body or even brain. She puts these hands to use loving people, using her communications skills to teach English to refugee families and hanging out with unloved people on the streets. She finds peace with who she is, and therefore continues to have peace when she graduates and looks toward her uncertain future in a struggling job market. Although she ends up waiting a while to find a job and endures many moments of feeling she has failed her parents, God, and herself, she eventually begins doing PR work for a local nonprofit that helps the homeless. She still hasn't found the love of her life or, for that matter, her dream job, but is resting in God's promises and learning that his love is more than enough. She is now studying a foreign language and dreams of ending poverty in that area of the world.

Is her life any easier? Not by a long shot. But is it more abundant? Does it have eternal significance? You bet. The first version of this girl was deadened and saddened, while the second version was awakened to her true calling and purpose.

What's sad is, some of you will read this and then go away thinking it doesn't apply to you. "Well, I AM one of the few who is called to be rich and comfortable" or "That sounds nice, but being idealistic gets you nowhere." When Jesus says he has come that we may have LIFE and have it to the full, what does he say before that? "The enemy comes to steal and kill and destroy" (John 10:10). The lives of Americans are being stolen and destroyed, and quite successfully. We're perpetuating the enemy's deceit and theft through the paths we encourage our children to take and the lies we continue to tell ourselves - namely, that comfort and security will bring us the abundant life. They never have and never will.

I have to add one more thing here, along the lines of comfort and security. If God has told you to do something and you haven't obeyed because you "love your family too much," you are flat-out sinning...not to mention missing the abundant life God has for you. Whether you are close to your mother and father and don't want to leave them, or whether you want to "protect" your children by raising them in the United States rather than, say, Uganda, it is still sin if God has tugged your heart elsewhere. We are commanded to love others above ourselves, and we are to honor our father and mother and care for our children - these things are true. But Jesus says very straightforwardly, "Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me" (Matthew 10:37). And he means it. Probably when you have said these excuses to fellow Christians in our culture, you have been met with understanding smiles and nods: of course you should feel that way and it is only natural and of course God can't expect you to put your kids in danger. But disobeying God is far worse than taking your kids to Africa.

That said, God certainly does not want you to abandon your family in their time of need. 1 Timothy 5:8 says, "But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever." If you have a child, it is your top priority to provide for him or her, and if you have elderly parents whose health is failing, likewise. Although there are many who have been called to go and yet stay, there are also some who are itching to change the world but in the process neglect the responsibilities God has already given them. Remember what Jesus says in Luke 16:10: "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much." Be a faithful steward of what you have now, and trust that if God has given you dreams he will fulfill them in his timing and as your faith grows.

If you do not yet have a family and are waiting to obey God until he provides you with a husband or wife to comfort you, this too is a sin that betrays a lack of faith in the sufficiency and providence of Christ. Luke 16:10 also applies to you. And there is a second part to those two verse at the top that I want you to notice: "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." "...You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy!" When God wakes us up from our safe and comfortable lives and sends us on uneasy journeys that require faith, hope and love that can only come from him, He also shines on us and gives us joy. He provides everything. When I think of the phrase "shine on you," I think of the sun with its warmth, happiness, and comfort. If Christ shines on us, it is as if he turns his face to us in approval, and his blessings come down just like rays from the sun. And when we awake, we then sing for joy because Jesus fills us with such abundant life that we are about to burst with blessing.

So believe his promises, and ask him right now what waking from your sleep and rising from the dead mean for you. You may need to simply notice someone you ignore on the street each day, you may need to change jobs, or you may even need to move your entire family overseas. Are you living the abundant life?

Electrostacrifice

Proof that I know a bit about science. I originally wrote it for a scholarship, but thought I would share it with you all. It was written in response to Socrates' assertion in the "Apology" that fear of disgrace ought to sustain a man's resolve in the hour of danger.

  

            One day in science class, our subject matter strayed like a rogue electron. Attending a small-town high school afforded many opportunities for free radical conversations since teachers were also our mentors, friends, and supplemental parents. We were discussing a story about an American soldier who flung himself on a grenade in Iraq to save his comrades nearby. One boy raised his hand and asked, “But Mr. Lewis, isn’t it always wrong to commit suicide?” The wise old teacher made no other response than to say, “Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” Then he went back to the chalkboard.

            I don’t think fear of disgrace is enough to sustain our resolve in the hour of danger, or if it is, then fear has killed our souls long before physical death could even touch us. The true motivation must be love. Not simply attraction, but rather an ionic bond that requires mutual sacrifice. C. S. Lewis wrote, "Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person's ultimate good as far as it can be obtained." It is a sacrificial spirit of humility, not the constant gratification of our desires.

            It is difficult to say what I would die for because I have never been placed in that situation, but I try to value Christ and his priorities above life itself. I hope that, if ever faced with a choice between life and honoring Christ, I would choose to honor him. I don’t say this to sound religious or holy, although I know it probably comes across that way in our culture. I say this because his sacrifice has engendered a sacrificial spirit in me, forming an electrostatic attraction that makes me smitten, enamored, head-over-heels in love with him. I admire him more than anyone else I've ever met or read about, and I'm irresistibly drawn to his love for me.

            I think we must be in love - true love - to deliberately die for something. The soldier who flung himself on the grenade didn’t have time to dismantle it or to think rationally, weighing the pros and cons of sacrificing himself. His decision came from the kind of deep love that doesn’t have to think; without question, his four friends came first. I will grant, however, that the kind of love that agonizes for hours on end about the decision to die for someone is even deeper. When I look at the story of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane, how he spent all night in the most intense prayer ever lifted up on earth and still chose the cross, it makes his love even more divine.

            When I look at the example of the soldier and of Jesus, I see love and not fear of disgrace. Whether I ever have to physically sacrifice my life or not, that is the kind of love I want – an ionic bond that causes me to throw my selfish desires on a grenade each morning so that even while living, I can lay down my life for my friends. 

Dancing in the Storm

I'm always afraid to try out God's power. I've wanted for a while to see God heal someone miraculously through me, and yet I'm terrified to ask friends if they want me to pray healing over them. I usually just take the safer way out: "I'll be praying for that." Let's just say I'm not like Elijah, daring people to call down fire from heaven and see whose God answers.

But lately I've been reading and hearing stories of friends...not friends of friends, or someone who knows someone who knows someone...my friends, who have healed people instantaneously in the name of Jesus, or who have done some other immediate miracle.

I want to see that.

At Rez Week tonight, this huge screen we were using to project worship lyrics kept almost falling over because of the wind. I was right under it. It was really causing a distraction, as people kept looking away from the speaker to see it sway back and forth. People eventually had to take it down during the speaker's talk, and then began setting it back up so we could end in worship (by the way, if any of you ever read this, thank you for your servant hearts).

I asked a sweet girl near me if she would pray with me that the wind would stop, and just that there would be no distractions and we would all have undivided hearts as we worshiped. We prayed together, as I cited to God the time when Jesus calmed the storm for his disciples and asked him to do the same now. The wind stilled for a minute.

But I was so afraid it would start back up again. So worried. And Jesus says not to worry.

Why was I afraid? I was afraid God wouldn't answer. I was afraid it would only stop for a moment and then start up again and I would doubt if God even listened or heard. I kept stressing out in my mind, wondering why I always do this after I pray...I always look desperately to see if God will say yes, if he will pull through.

Then the wind kicked back up (and just to be clear, it never kicked back up to the levels it had been before, and God had already blessed us and answered my prayers by holding back the thunderstorm that was supposed to happen tonight).

But I distinctly heard God saying: What difference does it make if I stop the wind? Will you be disappointed in me if I don't stop the wind? Ashamed? Will you lose faith? Maybe I have a purpose for the wind. Maybe I have a purpose for every inconvenience.

And he also pointed out an area of pride in my heart. Another reason I'm afraid to pray specific things over people to their face is that I'm afraid it won't happen and that they'll think my faith is phony or that I'm crazy. I'm afraid to look stupid in front of them. I was afraid the sweet girl I prayed with would think I'm not truly connected to God or something because my prayer didn't work. That is the wrong motivation. I need to pray over people and their situations because I love them and because I want God's healing and renewal in their lives, not because God needs to pull through so I can look good.

Then the most amazing thing happened as the wind blew. A girl who had been helping to hold the screen steady let go and jumped right in front of the screen as we worshiped.

And she started dancing.

Then another guy behind her began dancing.

Then people began jumping and laughing.

A thought came to my head: "If God chooses not to stop the wind, we will still dance in it."
And God said, "Calming the storms brings me glory, but it brings me even more glory when my followers choose to dance in the middle of the storms."

And I began laughing as I applied this to the rest of my life. To all my unanswered prayers, to all my unrealized longings, to all my heartbreaking moments. I felt Jesus smiling over me as I joined in dancing with so many others, as we ecstatically sang, "Let hope rise, and darkness tremble in Your holy light." And meant it.

We worshiped without distractions and with undivided hearts. The wind didn't completely stop...but there was no way it could keep us from dancing.